You Don't Love Her
by prshs
Summary: Takes place starting from 1x07 after Cosima tries to kiss Delphine. Basically there are just little pieces of POV alternative Delphine and Cosima.
1. You Don't Love Her (Delphine's POV)

A/N Hi so literally I was on the bus home and it was a really rainy day (also I was stuck in some pretty heavy traffic) so I wrote this to pass time. I was probably sad and lonely hahaha. Anyways. Enjoy! Don't forget to fave or comment.

* * *

You pull away, a mixed drink of emotions flushing through your veins consisting of one part astonishment and two parts of something you cannot fully understand.

"I have to go." You stammer, trying to shake off her kiss from your lips. "It's okay"

You hastily collect yourself along with the coat you left on her chair as you fear the eyes that looked so devastated when you did not reciprocate. You instantly leave the room and make certain as to gently shut the door as you exit. The knob is cold to the touch beneath your trembling hands, not completely sure if it's less temperate than usual or because of the chills you feel up your neck that start to creep down to your spine and onto your arms. You inhale, facing Cosima's door. Facing your subject's door. _Yes. Your subject's door._

The skin on her lips were cold but you try so desperately to sooth the burn that aches on your own. The burn that has sunken deep into the tissues of your lips. It lingers. You could still feel her lips against yours despite the distance you have created between each other. You shake your head.

_C'est quoi ce bordel, Delphine. Focus._

She is your subject. You are a scientist. She is nothing to you but someone to observe. You are to report to Leekie any trouble she might cause. You are to not be the cause of that trouble. You do not care about her. Not her emotions nor her sudden declarations of attraction. You do not care about her dreams nor her aspirations. Her fears are the least to your concern, understand? You don't care if she might have nightmares about murderous men or monsters. You do not care about whether or not she might need someone to wake up to her 3am calls to calm her down. You do not care about how that silly smile of hers that radiate beams of sunshine that once can feel only in their hearts. You do not care about her taste in music, favourite food, favourite colour, nor anything else in between because she does not care about anything concerning you. She does not love you and you do no love her. You don't love her. _You don't love her._

Ah but you _do._ You just might despite the fact that you're working against her. Exchanging her information for mere paper to somewhat shady men for a stable job.

But you remember her lips gently pressed against yours, which are still heavy as if you longed for more. As if you half-regret pulling away so soon.

She does not deserve this. She doesn't deserve your lies. She doesn't deserve the half-shattered veneer you fabricated in lieu of your face. In another life, maybe you would be allowed to be together but this is reality and not some hypothetical universe. You stagger as you feel the tears well up in your eyes.

_Je suis désolé, ma chérie. I'm so so sorry._


	2. She Doesn't Love You (Cosima's POV)

A/N I wrote a part 2 because I was stuck in traffic again! Hahaha. This time it's Delphine's POV and this takes place right after she sends Delphine out her room upon knowing she works for Leekie.

* * *

You feel your cheeks begin to smolder. You don't even need to touch them with your cool hands to know that they're flushed with a deep pink but you feel them anyway. Probably just to check that you are capable of physically manifesting your disdain. _Check._ You don't cry when you're sad. You never do. You cry when you're angry. You kick and scream when you are frustrated. When you feel conned. When you feel stupid and idiotic despite the fact that you know that you actually _are_ pretty clever.

Your chokes have subsided into inaudible whimpers but the ache in your chest remains. There's an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach and you're certain that they're not nearly as beautiful as butterflies. Moths, perhaps. The inside of your head is the dance floor to a rave party, a never-ending clutter of thoughts that make it too hard for you to function. You feel the beat of the bass drum though the arteries in your temples while the dull buzzing noise that ceases to ring in your ears make it impossible to hear a thing.

But you hear her words again in your head through the clamour.

"_I didn't want to fall for you. I wasn't supposed to. But I have." _

Bullshit. You want to believe it. You desperately search for reasons to believe it but you just can't. It's all bullshit. You wanted her to want you but it was all a lie. You knew she was dangerous and that unconditionally is the worst part of it all. You played the dummy. You overlooked every single logical thing you've concluded. You pushed reason away all for some silly crush on someone who is never going to love you. For someone who could easily lie to your face. That's the worst part of it all. You _knew. _But you didn't move away. You trusted her even. You idiot. You're an idiot. A dimwit. A naïve little geek.

You stare at the half-packed suit case with your heavy eyes, realising that running away wouldn't fix a broken heart. You sit on your unkempt bed, random articles of clothing sprawled across your proximity.

_My bed is almost as chaotic as my life, _you think.

_Heh._

You lie on top of your messy sheets with your hands on your stomach, interlocked with each other. You realise that you long for comfort. You can feel your eyebrows gesture a distress call for nobody because you're all alone in your room now and suddenly, you feel yourself heaving, searching for any oxygen your lungs have strength to hold. You're not sobbing nor shaking. Your head isn't spinning like it was. You cry. But this time, you're crying not because you're angry. Not because you're frustrated. You're crying because you're sad. Lonely even. Devastated. Shattered.

And you suddenly regret sending Delphine out the door.


End file.
